


Coffee House

by KittyFaceLawl



Category: Creek - Fandom, South Park
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Coffee, Depression, Fluff, M/M, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-02-17 21:40:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13085907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyFaceLawl/pseuds/KittyFaceLawl
Summary: It's been 4 or so years since Craig betrayed Tweek's trust. 4 years since Craig was able to hold Tweek and say that he loved him.Is there any hope for Tweek to fall back into Craig's arms, or was Craig forever banned from the Coffee House?





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Eh first SP fanfic. I appreciate advice on characters and how they are written. Hope I do good.

It was a chilly September afternoon in South Park, Colorado, with a chance of storms later that night. Inside of South Park High, however, it was warm. Way too warm. Craig Tucker was dying in his sweater and jeans, and could hardly wait to get out of algebra, yet his face bore no excitement. Craig was a stoic, calm character who rarely showed anyone any emotion. The only person who had seen the sweeter and softer side of him was Tweek Tweak, his ex-boyfriend. But they were ancient history, having broken up at the end of the 8th grade. Craig claimed that it was mutual, but he knew better. Tweek had broken up with him because Craig was an asshole. Craig couldn't deny that, but his pride kept him from admitting it. From admitting that he was wrong. 

"C-Craig, you asshole!" Tweek had roared, his coffee splashing as he slammed the mug down on the counter of his family's café. 

"Tweek, calm down." Craig had tried to soothe his pissed off boyfriend. 

"You-you said that you would...you would be there!" He had declared, his hands were shaking as his face twitched, his anxiety seeping through the cracks. "I-I had to give my speech to the entire 8th grade alone!" 

"Babe I'm sorry-"

"You-you're always 'sorry'!" Tweek had snapped. Craig was thankful that the shop was closed now. A few years back the DEA had stormed South Park and had found that the coffee at Tweek Bros Coffee Shop had a secret ingredient; methamphetamine. Richard Tweak was then arrested, while Mrs. Tweak and Tweek got off fairly easily, since his mother claimed to not know about the secret ingredient and Tweek was only 11. Now they owned a new coffee shop, yet the DEA still sent secret agents in to make sure Mrs. Tweak wasn't using any "special ingredients". Tweek, however, had formed an addiction to meth and had to go to rehab for about 7 months. That was years ago, though. Tweek still loved coffee, and his anxiety had mellowed out considerably since then, yet he still had the occasional anxiety attack. And it seemed like today was another instance of one of those infamous attacks. 

"Babe I really am. I forgot-"

"You 'forgot'? You forgot about my fuck-fucking speech?" Tweek had spat, sweat beading at his spiked hairline. 

"No, Tweek, I forgot that it was day-light savings!" Craig had snapped. He normally could control his emotions well, but he was already having a bad day. What with the stupid day-light savings making him a full hour late for Tweek's big middle school graduation speech. 

"Do-do you have any idea what I...what I went through today? I had a fucking panic attack! In front of the whole f-f-fucking school!" Tweek had exclaimed. 

"I'm sorry-"

"No. Just - no." Tweek had suddenly quieted down a little, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes in an attempt to calm down. "I trusted you, Craig. You-you were supposed to be there for me. You promised me." He had whispered softly, yet his fists were still clenched on the counter. 

Craig's anger had faded away, and it was replaced with guilt. "Tweek, honey, I-"

"No, Craig. Just...just go." Tweek whispered. "I just...I just need some time to be alone." 

And that was that. They had broken up, and Tweek had eventually found someone else. Craig was unable to move on, though. He still found himself thinking about Tweek on occasions, especially in English class since they shared it. It was hard for Craig to ignore Tweek and just continue with his life, but every time he saw Tweek walking down the hallway with his new boyfriend, Michael, Craig would feel spikes of jealousy that he refused to show. In Craig's opinion, Tweek deserved better than the thick-headed jock/nerd. Yeah, Michael was a linebacker for the high school football team, and yet was a huge trigonometry nerd. Clearly Tweek had a type. 

Then, much to Craig's bored looking pleasure, the final bell rang, signaling the end of the constant mental torture that was high school. 

Craig stood up calmly and grabbed his backpack, swinging it over his shoulder as he followed his classmates out of the class and into the hallway, looking over everyone's heads as he did so. Craig Tucker was a tall kid, to say the least. Then again, he'd always been tall. He was 6"3, and the only kids who rivaled his height were Token Black and Kyle Broflovski. Yeah, only two people were as tall or nearly as tall as Craig in the whole school. Then again, their graduation class was only going to be about 100 kids since the school was so small. "South Park High, home of the pigs". Yeah, going from the "Cows" in elementary, to the "Stallions" in middle school, and now the "Pigs". This town was great at naming things. 

Craig stopped by his locker to gather the rest of his things when he heard a familiar voice. A nervous, twitching voice. He paused in his movements, not daring to look up. 

"Hey...hey Craig." Tweek said casually. Despite them breaking up years ago due to Craig's broken promise, Tweek had tried to remain friends with the tall, bored looking teen. Craig welcomed the friendship, but secretly hoped that they'd go back to being more. He missed his little spaz-ball. 

"Hey Tweek." Craig said with his little lisp. He'd had it since they were 10, and despite going through braces in middle school (yuck), his lisp remained. Though now his teeth were straight. 

"I hear homecoming is going to be...is going to be a few weeks. Heidi and Bebe are plan...planning it." The shorter boy stated enthusiastically. Poor Tweek still had his stutter, despite not having had any meth-laced coffee since 6th grade, as far as Craig knew.

"Cool. You know the theme yet?" Craig asked boredly, pretending to organize his books. 

"No, but Bebe said it'd be 'magical'. Ngh - I just hope there won't be any fire...fireworks." 

Craig glanced down at Tweek. He was only about 5"5, which was short for a guy their age - the average heights were mostly 5"8-5"11 - and he only went up to about Craig's collarbone, and to Craig that was the perfect height. His hair was still a wild mess that stuck out everywhere, and was still fairly long. His green eyes were much happier than they had been since they were kids. Back then his eyes would constantly dart around with a panic-filled hopelessness. His smile seemed genuine, and he had a very small gap between his front two teeth. Craig had always found it cute. That and the fact that his cheeks always had a semi-permanent pink tint to them. 

"If it's 'Harry Potter' themed again I'm going to burn this place down." Craig muttered as he pulled his advanced astronomy book out of his locker and placing the homework in his bag. He still held his love for outer space since he was a kid, and was planning on going to Stanford University, since it had a great engineering program which was perfect for Craig's dream of working for NASA and one day going to space.

"I don't think - ngh - I don't think it's going to be 'Harry Potter' themed ah-again. That was last years'." Tweek states enthusiastically, walking with Craig as he headed towards the southern exit of the school, where the buses were. 

"And it was freshman years', too." Craig muttered as he held the door open for the shorter boy, and as a result, ended up standing there as other students poured out. Tweek stood off to the side, waving at Leopold - AKA Butters - as he wished Tweek a good weekend. Craig, getting fed up with the new responsibility of being the door holder, finally let it go just as a group of freshman girls were about to walk through. The glass door managed to knock one of them - a tall blonde - on her ass. 

"Hey! What's the deal, Asshole?" She demanded as her two little friends helped her gather her fallen things. 

"You got arms, don't ya?" Craig demanded, walking over to Tweek and resting a hand on his shoulder as he guided the shaky boy to where the buses were going to arrive at any minute. 

"That was ru...rude." Tweek mumbled under his breath. 

"I'm not a fucking bellhop. Not like I was going to be tipped for holding a door open for a bunch of stupid freshies." Craig muttered. 

Suddenly a hand pushed his off of Tweek's shoulder. Craig glanced up at the intruder, and came face-to-technically-neck with Michael. Michael was a buff guy with a thick neck and sharply chiseled facial features. Yeah Craig was thin, so his cheekbones and and nose looked sharp, but Michael's looked like they were carved from stone, especially his jawline. Michael had thick light brown hair that was slicked back to keep out of his light amber eyes. His eyes were, like his nicely carved jaw, sharp and warm. They were probably warmer to Tweek than Craig's, which were a dark and brooding blue. He was also a tad taller than Tweek, so he could easily wrap his thick meaty arm around Tweek's thin, fragile shoulders, which he was doing now. It pissed Craig off. 

"Hey, Babe." Michael greeted Tweek warmly, giving him a soft kiss on the lips, which ticked Craig off even more. He hated that Michael was using Craig's old pet name for Tweek. Michael glanced up at Craig, and the warmth in his amber eyes melted at the sight of the taller, lankier boy. "Tucker." 

"Griffin." Craig growled coldly, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. 

Michael didn't remark on Craig's iciness and instead turned to Tweek. "So, change in plans; I have practice until 7 tonight. I can't make it for dinner." He told Tweek, still keeping his charming grin 

"Oh-oh. Ok, I suppose it won't be too hard to...too hard to reschedule." Tweek stuttered. 

"I'm sorry, babe." Michael scoffed softly. "Coach is just worried about this next game, and I can't really blame him. Some of the guys on our team are just fucking retards." 

Craig wasn't on the football team - he hated sports - but he still felt like Michael was somehow trying to insult him. Clyde Donovan, one of Craig's closest friends since childhood, was on the football team, and he wasn't really well-known for his academic qualities. Was Michael taking a shot at him by insulting his friends? 

"That's alright, this is...this is important for you." Tweek said, smiling kindly at his slightly taller, newer boyfriend. 

"Thanks for understanding, babe. Ok, I gotta go - coach is gonna kill me. Text ya when I get off!" Michael claimed, leaning down and stealing a kiss from Tweek before turning and racing towards the football field. Craig followed him with his eyes, hoping to glare a hole through his skull. Maybe he'd get a concussion during practice and would turn straight. That'd be a fucking miracle.

"...aig? Craig?" Tweek's soft voice broke him from his thoughts, as well as a tug on the sleeve. 

"Hm?" 

"I'd appreciate it if you'd...if you'd stop glaring at my boyfriend." Tweek muttered, and when Craig glanced down at his ex, he saw that his green eyes were defensive. Tweek Tweak may have been smaller than most of the guys at their school, but he could still kick ass if he had to. That was one of the many things Craig admired about his former boyfriend. 

"Sorry," Craig muttered half-assedly, pulling a pack of cigarettes from one of his pockets while he retrieved a cheap plastic lighter from the other. "I guess I’ll-"

"Mr. Tucker! You're not supposed to smoke on school property!" Ms. Baker, the school counselor, shouted from across the brief stretch of grass, just as Craig's bus rolled up. 

"Looks like my ride’s here. I’ll text ya." Craig quickly said to Tweek before he nabbed one of the cigarettes into his mouth while he stuffed the rest of the pack into his pocket while he pushed his way through the students to get onto the bus. 

"Mr. Tucker, please stop so we can discuss this like adults, ok?" Ms. Baker called after him, while Craig merely flipped her off as he pulled himself onto the bus. 

The bus driver, some middle-aged loveless lady who was absolutely sick of her life grunted at him, a sort of warning to not smoke on the bus. Craig nodded briefly as he made his way to the back of the bus where Token and Jimmy were waiting. Jimmy was sitting in the seat beside Timmy, who was sitting in his motorized wheelchair. Token was sitting in the seat in front of them, sitting beside - much to Craig's surprise - Kyle Broflovski. He stood in the aisle beside Kyle, arching an inquisitive eyebrow at Token. 

"Hey Craig," Token said, "you mind if Kyle sits here? We're discussing strategy for when basketball starts." 

"That doesn't start for another three months." Craig said past his cigarette, but shrugged regardlessly. Either he was suffering from Token's enthusiastic obsession or Kyle was. He'd rather Kyle's ears bleed. 

Craig turned and sat in the seat across the way from them, which happened to be next to Trudy Parker. Trudy Parker had moved to South Park from Pennsylvania when they were all in middle school, and was Kyle's ex-girlfriend and now best friend, having replaced Stan Marsh sometime in their 8th grade year - Stan and Kyle were still friends as far as Craig knew. Her family owned The Roost, a 50's styled cafe settled near the center of the quiet town of South Park. It had been established some time during the kids' middle school years and was a popular hangout among the now teenagers. Trudy was on the shorter side, but held enough attitude and sarcasm for someone twice her size. She was a scrawny twig with shoulder length brown hair and thin hipster glasses. Her typical outfit consisted of a flannel, tank top, jeans, a multi-colored chullo hat, and some very worn black converses. She was sort of a hipster who Craig often saw at Tweek's family cafe. Craig didn't mind Trudy - she was a funny, kind girl who was pretty smart. She, like Kyle, was in all honors classes. Kyle had some competition for Valedictorian. 

"Hey, Craig." Trudy greeted him without looking up from her textbook and notebook, a mechanical pencil in one hand and a highlighter in the other. She was chewing on her bottom lip as she scrutinized the paper, jotting down some notes. 

Craig decided to leave her to it and pulled his headphones and iPhone 4 -yes, he still had an iPhone 4 and he took very good care of it - and played some music on Pandora. 

"I looked out this morning and the sun was gone  
Turned on some music to start my day  
I lost myself in a familiar song  
I closed my eyes and I slipped away."

Craig closed his eyes as the bus took off, speeding down the lanes of South Park.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idk what to put here I’m still new to this.

At around 8 o’clock that night the storm hit. At first it had just been a light rain shower, but now, at almost midnight, it was a full-fledged storm. The growling and flashing of light reminded Craig of Tweek. He remembered back when Tweek had panic attacks because he was paranoid that lightning would strike his house and light it on fire. His paranoia had eased up some since he had quit the meth-laced coffee, yet it was still a prominent part of his personality. 

Now, as the lightning struck the mountains surrounding South Park, it reminded Craig of those panic-filled moments. What was Tweek doing now? Surely not sleeping - Craig knew Tweek. He knew that Tweek was either hiding under his covers or in the closet snapping LEGO bricks together. His paranoia might have calmed down, but he was still prone to anxiety attacks, and the LEGO’s had always helped him ease the stress by focusing his attention on the satisfactory ‘click’ when two LEGO bricks linked. 

Craig glanced at the iPhone 4 charging on his bedside table. Storms like this were rare in South Park (despite all of the weird shit that happened in the quiet little red-neck po-dunk white-trash mountain town) and Craig just knew that Tweek was freaking out. 

He sat up and grabbed his phone, pulling up Tweek’s number and shooting him a text. 

Craig: You doing okay?

Almost immediately he got a response. 

Tweek: no

Craig could tell, even from just a simple text, that Tweek was panicking. He had read somewhere online that when someone had been mentally trained to think a certain way for so long, they’d continue thinking that way for a long time. Tweek had been paranoid since they were 8, which was 10 years ago. 

Craig: Are you with someone?

Tweek: no

Craig stood up and grabbed his backpack from under his bed, emptying it while replying to Tweek. 

Craig: I’ll be over in 30. 

He didn’t receive a response, so he assumed that he was ok to go over. He stuffed a spare change of clothes into his bag and grabbed his laptop, slipping it between his sweatshirt and jeans. Then he pulled on some black jeans and a dark blue hoodie, tossing his old chullo hat on his head and pulling the backpack over his shoulders. As he was pulling on his black vans, a small noise could be heard from the far end of his room. He glanced up and saw his guinea pig, Stripe #8, staring back at him. Craig finished lacing his shoes up before going over to Stripe #8’s cage and gently taking her out. Tweek had always liked guinea pigs - despite the fear of dropping them or being bitten at first - so hopefully Stripe #8’s visit would help soothe the anxious teen. 

“Come on, girl. Let’s go see Tweek.” Craig mumbled, slipping Stripe #8 into his hoodie pocket. He felt Stripe #8 snuggle close, lying comfortably inside the dark pocket. 

Craig was quiet as he headed down the stairs to his kitchen. He knew Tweek would want some coffee to ease his troubles, but he’d also need to sleep. So Craig had grabbed some sleeping medication from the bathroom cabinet and the bottle was now stuffed into the backpack. He went through the living room and entered the kitchen, just as another strike of lightning lit up the house, quickly followed by a clap of thunder that practically shook the house. Craig needed to hurry before Tweek’s anxiety got worse. 

Craig grabbed a thermos from the cupboard and grabbed the already finished coffee pot (Craig’s father brewed it at night so that it was ready to go in the morning before he went to work). As Craig poured the coffee into the thermos, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Craig sighed softly, mentally bracing for a lecture.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I’ll make more before I leave.” He said, hoping his father wouldn’t be too upset. 

“Where are you going?” That wasn’t Craig’s dad. Instead it was Tricia, his middle school-aged sister. 

“Tweek’s having a panic attack. I’m going to go help him.” Craig explained, grabbing some hazelnut coffee creamer from the fridge and drizzling it into the black coffee. Tweek didn’t like sugar in his coffee, but he did like cream. 

“Are you two back together?” Tricia asked, and Craig could hear the hopefulness in her voice. She and Tweek had always gotten along, and Tricia had admitted that she wanted Craig and Tweek to get married and have a baby, much to Tweek’s flustered embarrassment and Craig’s amusement. 

“No. He just needs someone right now, that’s all.” Craig said, though a little more quietly. 

“Doesn’t he have a boyfriend? Why isn’t he helping Tweek out?” 

Craig hesitated. That was a great question; why wasn’t Michael helping Tweek sort out his anxiety? Surely Michael knew of it by now - they’d been together since June. 

Before Craig could even think of a response, more lightning struck and the thunder boomed sooner than before. The storm was getting worse, and so was Tweek’s anxiety. 

“I have to go. Can you make Dad some more coffee?” Craig asked, stuffing the thermos into the backpack and checking that Stripe #8 was still sitting comfortably in his pocket. 

“Sure. Tell Tweek I said ‘hi’!” Tricia called as Craig slipped out into the backyard. 

About 5 seconds after Craig stepped outside, he was soaked. He probably should have grabbed a raincoat, but it was too late now. Tweek needed him. He ran over to his bicycle that was leaning against the toolshed and hopped onto the wet seat, which soaked uncomfortably into his pants. He stuffed one hand into his pocket to protect Stripe #8 as he rode out of his backyard and down the street. The rain was getting thicker and colder and the lightning was hitting closer, causing the thunder to grumble louder. Tweek’s anxiety drove Craig to pedal faster down the streets, dodging cars and big puddles until he pulled up to the front of Tweek’s house. He pulled into the backyard and jogged up to the back door. He lifted up the welcome mat and grabbed the small golden key, then he let himself inside. 

The house was warm and dark, and the scent of coffee filled the air. The smell was familiar to him and it relaxed him. It smelled like Tweek. Speaking of which, Craig quietly crept up the stairs to Tweek’s room. He felt a sense of nostalgia as he walked down the familiar hallway, glancing at the pictures on the walls. It was too dark to see anything, but Craig could tell that there were new frames hanging. 

He stopped outside of Tweek’s room and grasped the doorknob, carefully opening it as to not scare Tweek. He then snuck into his room, and just as he had suspected, Tweek’s shivering form could be seen underneath the sheets, and the faint clicking of LEGO’s could be heard under the sound of thunder. 

“Tweek?” Craig asked, trying to change his voice from his typical boring monotone to a softer and more calming tone. 

“Gah! Cr-Craig?” Tweek squeaked, peeking his shivering head out from under the covers. 

“The one and only.” He answered, walking over to Tweek’s messy bed and setting his backpack on the end of it. He then pulled Stripe #8 out of his pocket, finding that she was damp and shivering. He rubbed the small creature and turned to Tweek, who was watching him with a curiously anxious expression. “Wanna hold Stripe?” 

“You - ah - you’re so original,” Tweek teased, sitting up a little more and holding out his hands. Craig walked over and gently set Stripe #8 into Tweek’s shaking hands. Their fingers brushed, and Craig pretended not to notice the red in Tweek’s cheeks from the contact. But just the slight blush made something inside Craig stir, like his heart was actually pumping. 

He pulled away and started removing his hoodie, revealing the slightly damp Red Racer T-shirt underneath. Tweek watched, and his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates when Craig started taking that off as well. “Gah! Wha...what are you doing?!” 

“I’m wet.” Craig said, intentionally vaguely as he hid a smirk. It was fun to tease Tweek sometimes. 

“WHAT?!” 

“Yeah, it’s raining outside. I got wet.” Craig explained monotonously, draping the damp shirt over Tweek’s desk chair next to his hoodie. 

“Oh...oh.” Tweek mumbled, jumping a little as more thunder rumbled. Stripe #8 chirped in Tweek’s hands, and before he knew it the guinea pig leapt off of his hands and into his lap, burying herself into Tweek’s sweatpants. Tweek gladly glanced down, feeling awkward for having seen Craig shirtless. Craig let a smirk escape as he watched Tweek smile warmly at the small creature. 

“She likes you.” Craig said softly, starting to pull his pants down as well. 

“Yeah,” Tweek murmured, glancing up with a small smile on his face. But the smile vanished when he saw Craig standing there practically naked. Craig’s torso was lean and thin, like the rest of him, and his chest was bare. Yet short black hair started from his belly button and crept under his boxers, making Tweek’s cheeks go scarlet. He tried focusing on other aspects of Craig’s body other than the boxers, and he could see a tattoo on the left side of his neck. It was a black splotch with a bunch of dots. Overall Craig remained handsome, with and without clothes. 

Craig noticed Tweek’s staring and tried his best not to smirk. He turned around to face his backpack and grabbed a K-Pop T-shirt - curse the Asian girls for giving him a new hobby - and pulled it on. Then he grabbed his laptop and the warm thermos and turned to Tweek, who was still bright red. “Wanna watch a movie?” 

“Sh...sure.” Tweek whispered, glancing back down at Stripe #8, who was fast asleep on his lap. Craig crawled into the bed beside Tweek, settling himself under the covers. He handed Tweek the thermos and turned on the laptop. 

“I also brought some Excedrin so you can sleep, if you want.” Craig offered, glancing at Tweek. 

“Ok.” He mumbled, sitting a good foot away from Craig. 

Craig noticed the distance, and he didn’t like it. Yes he understood that Tweek was taken, but he was still anxious over the storm raging outside. Craig wanted Tweek to feel comfortable. “You can come closer if you want.” He offered. 

“I-” more lightning crashed outside and almost instantly thunder roared with it, making Tweek jump and yelp. Craig lifted an eyebrow, wordlessly asking if Tweek was being serious. Tweek relented, though, and scooted closer until their arms were touching. 

Craig wasn’t paying much attention to the Superman movie, and was instead focusing on Tweek. He was sipping from the coffee/drugged thermos as he watched the movie, twitching whenever lightning struck. His unruly hair tickled Craig’s neck, yet the taller boy made no attempt to fix it. Tweek’s smaller frame was pressed against his own and wasn’t shivering as much anymore. Hell he was almost still. 

“Remember when we...when we played superheroes as kids?” Tweek asked suddenly. 

“Yeah,” Craig mumbled, glancing at Tweek. “Wonder Tweek.”

“I, uh, still have my costume.” Tweek admitted, embarrassed. “Well, the...the headband at least.” 

Craig smirked a little. “I think I do, too.” 

Tweek laughed a little. “You mean that ‘S’ you taped to your...to your shirt?” 

“Hey, I didn’t want to play. I only did because you did.” 

Tweek laughed and sat up a little bit, handing Stripe #8 over to Craig before hopping off of the bed and running over to his closet, throwing a door open and rummaging through a pile of clothing. Tweek’s room was messy, and practically a death trap if you were barefoot - what with all of the LEGO’s. 

Tweek came back over to the bed and sat down beside Craig, taking his spot back bedside him. A blue headband with the words “Wonder Tweek” written on it was wrapped around Tweek’s forehead, bits of his blonde hair falling over it. It looked tight and strained, but Tweek didn’t show any signs of discomfort. He beamed brightly at Craig, which made Craig smile. God this kid was cute. 

“I remember when that one goth kid accidentally punched me in the face and you flipped out on them. We had to stop the game just for you to calm down and not beat the shit out of them.” Craig recalled, smiling at the memory. 

Tweek laughed nervously. “Yeah. Poor Pete.” He said, using his index finger and smoothing Stripe #8’s back. “It wasn’t my fault. He hurt you.” 

Craig felt touched by Tweek’s words, and used his hand to rub Tweek’s back. “I know. It felt nice to know that if someone ever punched me on purpose you would’ve eliminated them from existence.” 

They both chuckled quietly, before the room fell silent. Well, as silent as a room could be with a movie playing inside and rain pounding on the window. Craig searched his mind for ways to keep the conversation going, feeling as though he had hit a verbal standstill. 

“I still would.” Tweek whispered, shifting a little and smoothing Stripe #8’s black and white fur back. 

“I would, too,” Craig murmured, glancing down at Tweek. He felt his cheeks rising in temperature as Tweek merely laughed at his remark. 

“Aren’t you noble?” He chuckled softly. “I’m pretty sure I’m more...more dangerous than you.” 

Craig chuckled nervously as well, trying to push past his remark. “Remember when we played cowboys vs. Indians? And you called yourself ‘Warboy’? You fucking huffed paint before a battle and threw tampon spears at the enemy.” 

Tweek laughed. “At least I didn’t fill my nerf gun with piss and dumpster juice and call myself a s,s,sailor. That was...that was disgusting.” 

“First of all, it was a Super Soaker. And I was a marine, not a sailor.” Craig corrected, jabbing Tweek in the side. 

“Well I wasn’t a level 8 thief who called themselves ‘Flexbar’ and de...defended myself with a racket.” 

“Feldspar. And at least I didn’t get sick the next day because I wasn’t wearing a shirt.” 

“Come...come on, you know I looked good.” Tweek teased, glancing up at Craig, only for his cheeks to go scarlet once he realized how that must’ve sounded. “I-I MEAN-”

“Relax ba - Tweek,” Craig said, nearly punching himself in the face for the near-accidental slip up. “I know what you mean. You did look kinda awesome in those costumes.” 

“Heh, I put eff...effort into my costumes. Unlike someone I know.” Tweek jabbed, nudging Craig in the ribs. Craig chuckled and nudged Tweek back, though with a little more force. Tweek glanced at Craig and pushed back, this time actually causing an impact and making Craig lose his balance a little as he almost fell over, startling Stripe #8 into jumping off of his lap. 

“Oh, no you didn’t.” Craig warned, smirking slightly. 

“Oh, but I did.” Tweek instigated, already scooting away from Craig. 

Craig used his long arms as an advantage and reached out, snatching Tweek’s ankle and yanking him back. Tweek laughed and flailed mildly, while Craig struggled to climb on top of him. He grabbed Tweek’s wrists and pinned them above his head. 

“Tucker, you fu-fucker!” Tweek gasped, panting from the struggle with a grin on his face. Craig was also breathing heavily, and was grinning slightly. Tweek had the cutest grin, and the softest hair, and the prettiest green eyes; everything was cute about him, even the tiny red pimples on his cheeks that were surrounded by a light dusting of freckles. 

But he also had a very cute, small mouth. An amazing, kissable mouth that was probably warm. Craig felt his face heating up a little, and he stopped laughing. Tweek had also stopped laughing and was gazing up at Craig, his lips parted slightly. Craig took a deep drink of bravery and leaned down, noticing that Tweek was leaning up as well. Taking this as the “ok” to continue, Craig suddenly dropped his lips down onto Tweek’s, releasing his hands. Just as Craig had suspected, Tweek’s lips were soft and warm. His breath tasted strongly of coffee, but it was good. So, so good. In a lot of ways they’d grown up since their second breakup (or third, if you counted the staged one in front of the Asian girls), and Tweek was a much better kisser than the trembling kid Craig had awkwardly kissed in the school parking lot in 7th grade. 

Tweek had several thoughts racing around in his mind. Like “this is amazing” and “I hope this never ends”. And “what about Michael?” Tweek felt guilt starting to swarm up from the pit of his stomach. Here he was, laying in bed kissing Craig while Michael was asleep a few blocks away. No matter how good Craig’s kisses had become, Tweek had a boyfriend. A boyfriend he needed to stay faithful to. Michael had never done him wrong and was a good boyfriend, and he didn’t deserve getting hurt like this. 

“Mph-” Tweek mumbled, causing Craig to pause for a second. “Ge’ off,” 

Craig pulled away, still pinned above Tweek. He looked concerned, and it warmed Tweek’s heart at his ex’s concern. “What’s wrong?” 

“Michael,” he whispered, glancing off to the side, just as more thunder rumbled in the distance, though not as intense as it had been 10 minutes ago. 

Craig was quiet, keeping his gaze off to the side to avoid looking at Tweek. He found himself wishing that Tweek would just say “fuck it” and kiss him again. But Tweek wasn’t like that. Tweek was loyal. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s - ah - ok.” Tweek mumbled breathlessly. “I just… agh, please don’t tell?” 

“Of course not. I’m pretty sure he’d crush me with his shoulders if he found out.” Craig joked, causing the faintest of smiles to brighten Tweek’s face again. 

Tweek gazed up at him, and before he really realized what he was doing, he lifted his left hand up and gently touched the side of Craig’s neck, where the tattoo was. “You got a tattoo.” He observed.

“Yeah. It’s the constellation Scorpio, since it’s my sign.” Craig explained. 

“Did it - ngh - hurt?” 

Craig chuckled darkly. “Fuck yeah it did. Worse than getting hit in the balls.” 

Tweek noticeably cringed, which made Craig smile more. He loved how expressive Tweek was. For the expressions he lacked, Tweek made up for. 

“Can...can we watch the movie?” Tweek asked softly, and Craig realized that he was still pinning Tweek down. 

“Uh, yeah, sure.” 

They sat up and continued watching the movie with Stripe #8 in Tweek’s lap. They decided to watch a Batman movie next, but about halfway through it Tweek realized that Craig was asleep against him, with his head resting back against the wall. Tweek quietly shut the movie off and moved the laptop away, gently setting Stripe #8 beside him. He felt the effect of the sleeping drugs starting to take place, so he decided to get in a comfortable position. He glanced at his pillow, then at Craig’s lap, and then up at Craig’s peaceful, sleeping face. Rain was still tapping on the window, the thunder was only a distant rumble, and the lightning was almost nonexistent. The storm had passed, and they had survived. Now Tweek could sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any grammar mistakes. Please tell me if I have any I really appreciate it. Again I hope this was OK


	3. Chapter Three

Craig was the first one to wake up the next day, and the first thing he realized was that the rain had ceased completely. Hell the sun was up, yet still behind the mountains, so the sky was pale blue behind him through the window. The second thing he noticed was that there was a warm, sort of heavy weight on his lap. He glanced down at the blond poof that resided on his lap, and he blinked in surprise. Tweek was actually asleep! His soft snores filled the milky room, and he heard soft mumbles coming from the shorter boy. Craig smiled softly, and started to stroke his ex’s wild hair. He glanced around Tweek for Stripe #8, but he saw something else. Something far more unsettling. 

For the first time in a long time, Tweek was wearing a T-shirt to bed. Yes when they dated in middle school and had sleepovers Tweek would wear a short sleeved shirt, but this was the first time Craig had seen him with short sleeves in 4 years. Tweek’s left wrist was marred horribly, thin raised lines lining his arm, barely covered by a few pathetic bandages. Craig stopped petting Tweek as it felt like the scars were on his heart now. Tweek had cut, and hadn’t come to him for help…

Tweek let out a soft sigh, shifting a little as he woke up. But as soon as he felt Craig’s fingers tracing his scars, he froze. He stayed perfectly still, unsure what to do, when Craig spoke. 

“How long?” He asked softly, still tracing each nasty cut. 

Tweek swallowed a little. “Fresh-freshman year,” he whispered. 

“Why?” 

“I was washing dishes, stress...stressing over something, when I...I got cut with a knife.” Tweek opened his hand, revealing a thicker white line slashed across his palm. “It...it distracted me from my anxiety.” 

Craig said nothing for a minute, just reached out and grabbed Tweek’s hand and running his thumb against the scar on Tweek’s palm. “What about the others?” 

Tweek shifted a little. “When I feel like I’ve lost...like I’ve lost control over something, the p-pain sort of wakes me up. It makes me feel like I can...can control something.” 

Craig swallowed thickly as he brushed Tweek’s hair back. God he hadn’t noticed anything unusual about Tweek throughout their high school career. He should’ve noticed. He should’ve noticed something was wrong with Tweek. Fuck, there were cuts on his arm! Because Tweek felt powerless over something. His anxiety was kicking his ass, and he didn’t have a healthy way to vent. “What does Michael do?” Craig asked softly, praying that he was trying to help Tweek sort his shit out, and he just wasn’t as good at it as Craig had been. Any attempt was better than no attempt. 

Tweek didn’t answer for a moment. “Nothing.” 

Craig took a sharp breath, his heart dropping, and anger was filling it. “That son of a bitch-”

“He couldn’t help. He doesn’t know how to handle a panic attack, how would he help an anxiety attack? Plus I don’t want to burden him with my problems.” 

“Well too fucking bad. When you’re in a relationship you need to help your partner, no matter how much baggage they come with.” Craig snapped, anger boiling in the pit of his stomach at Michael. When he dated Tweek, he always at least tried to understand what was bothering his boyfriend. 

Tweek sighed softly, sitting up and scooting away from Craig, pulling his knees into his chest and making sure to hide his arm. Craig’s expression softened as he gazed at Tweek, wanting to hug him and kiss him and to tell him that it would be ok. But he couldn’t. He fucking couldn’t, and Michael wasn’t doing shit about it. 

“Come to me,” Craig whispered finally, “whenever you feel like you have no control.” 

Tweek glanced up at him, a look of genuine surprise on his face. The surprise upset Craig. Did Tweek really think that he couldn’t come up Craig with his issues? Fuck was Craig that bad of a boyfriend? 

Then Tweek glanced away, resting his chin on his knees. The room was dead silent and extremely uncomfortable. Craig scratched his chin, feeling a little bit of hair starting to grow. He wasn’t a messy guy, normally, and he shaved once every other day, and now his stubble was coming back. Curse his teen years. The globs of acne didn’t help any, and even though his braces were finally taken off that summer, he could still almost feel them, as if they were ghosts attached to his teeth. Not to mention that he was still getting used to his new height. Well that’s what happened when you had some of the tallest parents in town. Hell Tricia was taller than over half of the guys at her school, which she absolutely despised. 

Craig took Stripe #8 and gently set her on Tweek’s lap before standing up and grabbing his spare change of clothes. “Mind if I use your shower?” He asked, keeping his back to Tweek. 

“Sure,” Tweek mumbled softly. 

Craig silently left the room and took a sharp right to where the bathroom was. Now that the sun was up he could see the new photo frames on the walls. He noticed that some of the photos had Richard Tweak still in the frames, smiling with his family. It pissed Craig off to see such a douchebag standing next to Tweek, but what could he do? He had no right to do anything other than focus on the other pictures, which were of more recent times, like of Tweek’s senior picture. He was wearing a nice button up shirt - holy shit they were buttoned correctly? - and he was leaning against a tree. His arms were crossed over each other and he had a soft smirk on his lip. Craig paused by it and smiled, admiring every feature on Tweek’s smiling face. He looked like he was trying to act tough, and it was amusing to Craig, sort of. Tweek could be pretty tough, but he was a sweetheart to almost everyone. Craig found himself staring at Tweek’s left arm, though, and he felt a pinch in his chest. Even though they weren’t visible, Tweek had had scars in that picture, and yet he was still smiling. How? How could he be smiling when his mind was in a mentally shitty place? Surely he had been anxious about the picture being taken. He always hated it when Craig tried to take his picture, claiming that it was too much pressure to look good in front of a camera. Had he cut beforehand to keep himself calm? 

Craig sighed softly and turned away from the picture, his chest compressing as he walked to the bathroom to clean up. 

Once Craig was done showering he dried off and glanced at the steamy mirror. He wiped a bit of the condensation away to get a good look at his face. His acne wasn’t nearly as bad as it had used to be, but he still had a few acne scars on his cheeks from previous clusters of red zits from last week. He frowned at them. God he hated being a teenager. He was just glad Tweek hadn’t noticed that he’d popped a boner last night after his brief make out session with the blond. Typically Craig could control his body, but much like his emotions, he lost control around Tweek. 

Craig ran a hand over his jawline that was prickled with stubble. He normally shaved every other day, but on weekends when he was lazy he didn’t really bother. Not like he was going anywhere. But today he was with Tweek, so shaving wouldn’t be a bad idea. He opened the medicine cabinet and took out some shaving cream and what he presumed to be Tweek’s razor and started lathering the thick white cream on his face jaw and starting shaving the short black hairs on his face. He liked starting up at the ears and working his way down to the edge of his chin, and then doing the other side until he only had stubble on his chin. Then he’d remove that. However this time, as he was about to shave his chin, Craig paused. It looked strange to see stuff on his chin, yet somehow it looked good. Right, even. He stared for a moment, before rinsing the razor off as well as the remainder of the shaving cream. Then he patted his face dry and took a look at himself. He looked decent, though the hair on his chin was barely more than a five o’clock shadow. He was satisfied with his appearance, however, so he put the stuff away and changed into his new clothes. 

Once he was dressed he headed back to Tweek’s room. He had a habit of opening and closing doors quietly since Tweek was easily startled, so when he opened the door it went unnoticed by Tweek, who was standing by his desk with his back partially to Craig and holding Craig’s dark blue hoodie, rubbing his thumbs against the material. Craig paused, watching as Tweek brought the hoodie up to his face and taking a deep breath. Craig felt a soft smile creep up on his face. 

“You can have that, if you want.” Craig offered, knowing that Tweek tended to be stubborn during the winter and didn’t wear a coat unless the temperature was in the negatives. He’d need a coat. 

“GAH!” Tweek squawked, dropping the hoodie and whipping around to face Craig, his face a deep shade of red. “I-I WASN’T-“

“Chill dude, it’s fine. I don’t care.” Craig said with a shrug. “You can have it if you want. I have more.” 

Tweek casted his gaze downward. Deep down he knew he wanted to take Craig’s offer and keep his hoodie, but it was wrong, wasn’t it? To accept something that your ex gives you? Oh but Craig’s smell alone helped him through some of his minor panic attacks. But how would Michael feel? He unconsciously started to run his nails up and down his arms as he mentally fought himself, gnawing on his bottom lip as his eye started twitching. Oh god, this was too much pressure! 

Craig’s warm hands suddenly took hold of his shaking ones me pulled them away from his already damaged arms. Tweek yelped at the sudden interaction, not expecting it in the least. “I’ll leave it here, just in case. Wear it, don’t wear it, I don’t care. Just keep it.” Craig stated, rubbing his thumbs over Tweek’s knuckles. 

Tweek hesitated, staring down at their joined hands. Craig’s hands have always been soft and warm, comforting and cozy. Tweek gripped his hands a little tighter, feeling secured by the touch. But shit, what about Michael? Sure they held hands a lot, but with Michael there was always something different about holding his hand. His hand felt rough and calloused, like it was trying to keep Tweek out. They didn’t feel welcoming like Craig’s, but it wasn’t Michael’s fault. Michael had a construction job during the weekends that paid decently. Of course his hands would be hard and rough. But Michael was always warm despite that. Holding Craig’s hands like this was wrong. 

Tweek let his hands drop to his sides, glancing away from the tall boy in front of him. Then he turned and grabbed a spare change of his own clothes. “I’m gonna shower. I’ll see you Monday.” He mumbled. 

Craig watched Tweek for a second, everything in his body yearning for Tweek’s touch again. But he… he couldn’t. “Ok. See ya.” He mumbled, going and grabbing his backpack and Stripe #8 off of the bed, stuffing her into his hoodie pocket. He heard Tweek leave the room, and Craig just stood there. It was hard to forget all of the times they spent in that room together. All of the countless sleepovers, all of the “study” sessions, all of the LEGO statues they made. All of those memories came flooding back to Craig. Hell even when they were preparing for a role play game like Wizards VS. Elves or superheroes or Cowboys VS. Indians. Each treasured memory played in Craig’s head, each of them tasting bittersweet. He had fucked up, and now he was paying for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too angsty?


	4. Chapter Four

Craig made his way down the stairs when he was hit with the smell of pancakes and the sound of sizzling eggs. Mrs. Tweak was awake. He hesitated, bracing himself, before continuing. He had always hated Tweek’s parents for what they did to their son. Even if Richard was the only one convicted, Helen was just as guilty, and Craig could never forgive her. 

He walked through the dining room and entered the kitchen, nearly colliding with Tweek’s mother, who gasped in surprise. “Craig?” She asked, stepping back and glancing up at him in confusion. 

Craig sneered down at her, making his hatred for her obvious. “Helen.” He snarled. That was one advantage of his height; he could be intimidating as fuck. 

“I saw your bike out back. When did you get here?” She asked softly, unable to keep eye contact with him. He felt a small prick of pride in the fact that she couldn’t look him in the eyes. 

“Last night. While your son was having a panic attack.” He stated, squaring his shoulders and crossing his arms over his chest. He liked making her feel guilty. 

“Oh. I didn’t notice.” She mumbled, casting her gaze downward. 

Craig scoffed. “Of course you didn’t. You don’t notice anything, do you? You didn’t notice the meth, you don’t notice if your son is missing, fuck you don’t even notice someone is in your house uninvited.” 

Helen sighed and shuffled her feet a little, and Craig lifted his chin slightly in victory. He absolutely adored making this bitch suffer, and making sure she never forgot what she did to her treasure of a son. He glared her down for a moment, before striding past her and towards the door, reaching for the handle. 

“Thank you,” she suddenly whispered, making Craig pause. “For taking care of Tweek.” 

He didn’t know what to say for a good minute, and just stood there, his hand a few inches from grasping the doorknob. How was he supposed to respond to that? He wasn’t going to say “you’re welcome” to that bitch. 

“I know you hate me, and rightfully so. But I appreciate what you do for my son.” She said, keeping her back to him. “He needs someone like you in his life.” 

Craig felt a slight ache in his heart at her words. Not by the fact that they came from her, but the implications behind them. Did Tweek really have no one else to vent to? “What about Michael?” He mumbled, staring down at the doorknob. 

“Who?” Helen asked, genuinely curious. 

Craig turned and stared at Helen in surprise. Did she really not know that Tweek was with someone, or was she just fucking with him? “Michael Griffin? Tweek’s boyfriend?” 

Helen Tweak blinked in surprise. “He has a boyfriend?” 

Craig glanced at the stairs, listening as the shower shut off. Tweek was going to be down here soon, and Craig debated on if he wanted to be there when his mother asked him about Michael. He bit his lip, contemplating. 

Tweek, meanwhile, entered his room quietly with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He opened his closet and pulled on some briefs and sweatpants, then he browsed his shirt selection. He wasn’t really planning on going anywhere that day, so maybe he could pass with just going shirtless? No, he’d probably get cold. One of the “downsides” of not drinking meth-laced coffee was that he was no longer a living thermos, and now he actually had to wear coats and shit. He frowned as he pulled out a dark green sweater, rubbing his thumbs over the fabric. The sweater was scratchy and Tweek just knew he’d be miserable and itchy. It was so unlike Craig’s hoodie, which was draped over Tweek’s desk chair. He glanced over his shoulder at the dark blue material laying there, tempting him. He bit his bottom lip and glanced around. Craig was long gone, surely he wouldn’t care if Tweek wore it. After all he had said that if Tweek wanted it he could have it. 

Tweek walked over to the chair and pulled the hoodie over his head, letting the soft material fall to his mid-thighs. Damn, was Craig really that tall and lanky? The sleeves fell way past his hands, but the inside was so soft against him, and it smelled just like Craig. Tweek hummed softly as he hugged himself, just imagining Craig’s arms wrapped around him. He smiled a little as he closed his eyes, breathing softly as the warmth of the hoodie enveloped his small, pudgy body. All of the cakes and the coffee from the shop really weren’t the healthiest choices of food, but Tweek never really cared about his physical appearance, so he didn’t really care about the extra weight on his stomach. Hell Michael thought it was cute. 

Michael… oh god, what would Michael do if he saw Tweek like this? Tweek frowned, staring down at himself standing in his room with Craig’s sweater on. Was this cheating? Was he being disloyal to Michael by wearing this? He groaned, tugging at the oversized hoodie. He really liked this, and didn’t want to take it off, but Michael… 

Michael didn’t have to know. Michael wasn’t going over to his house. He was probably working. Tweek frowned as he flopped down onto his bed, covering his face with the floppy sleeves of Craig’s hoodie. What was he supposed to do? Michael was a great boyfriend, considering all the information Tweek was willing to share. He hadn’t told Michael about his past meth addiction, or just how bad his anxiety got. He didn’t want to scare him away when they had first started dating, but was it too late to say something now? 

“Grah!” He growled, taking a deep whiff of the hoodie hugging his body to ease his nerves. He sighed as he let his hands fall from his face as he stared up at the ceiling. He eventually sat up and started heading downstairs. Might as well eat some breakfast. Hell maybe he could think of a solution to his problem if he ate something. 

He was so distracted by his thoughts that he didn’t notice the extra plate set up across from him, piled with steaming food. He sat at his usual spot and started on his pancakes, when someone sat across from him. He glanced up and nearly started choking. 

“You look good.” Craig said, smirking a little at Tweek. “Blue suits you.” 

“Sh-shut up!” Tweek yelped instinctively, his face reddening. “It’s comfy!” 

Craig chuckled a little and leaned back, his smile softening as he stared at Tweek. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the flustered teen sitting there in his oversized hoodie, dark red blush covering his face. Craig almost wanted to take a picture, knowing that he might never get to see this again. 

Tweek noticed the longing look in Craig’s eyes and guilt swarmed him. Oh god, Craig still liked him. He glanced down at his breakfast and started to eat it, just as his mother came in. 

“Is the food ok, dear?” She asked, sitting at the head of the table. 

“It’s fine.” Tweek mumbled as a mug of coffee was set beside the plate for him. He took the mug and glanced down at it, staring at his reflection in the black liquid. He couldn’t help but feel weird towards it, like he wanted to drink it so badly, but he knew he wouldn’t be satisfied with it. He’d felt that a lot lately, especially when his mother gave him coffee in that old, familiar mug. It was the same mug Richard had forced into his hands from a young age. He frowned at the mug, and the coffee inside of it, suspicion rising from deep inside him. “No thanks.” He muttered, shoving the mug away as he started on his bacon. 

Helen didn’t say anything, just glanced up at Craig. He was glaring at her per-usual, daring her to say something. He had decided to stay with Tweek while this bitch interrogated him, and act as some sort of crutch for the smaller teen. 

She cleared her throat and switched her gaze to her son, trying to ignore Craig’s fiery glare, and smiled sweetly. “Son, is there anything you want to tell me?” 

“No, Craig and I aren’t back together.” Tweek muttered, knowing very well that’s what she was going to say. How could she not? He was wearing Craig’s hoodie for God’s sake, and he had spent the night. 

Across the table Craig bit his lip. “Harsh.” He mumbled, sinking into his chair. 

Tweek glanced up in horror, realizing just how bad that sounded. “I-I mean-!”

“Dude, relax. I’m just kidding.” Craig said with a smirk. It was sort of fun to tease Tweek. 

Tweek frowned. “Dick,” he muttered, earning a chuckle from Craig. 

“I’m not talking about that,” Helen said softly, reaching out and taking Tweek’s hand. Craig glared hard at the contact, looking like a dog whose owner was in danger. She swallowed her nervousness, refusing to let Craig win, and smiled kindly at her child. “I’m talking about Michael.” 

Tweek froze, dropping his fork in surprise. How the fuck had she known? He looked up at her in surprise, ripping his hand away. “How do you know about that?” 

“Craig told me.” She said, gesturing to where Craig sat. 

“Craig!” Tweek whined, glaring hard at Craig with his jaw clenched. “I didn’t want her to know!”

“I’m sorry-”

“Why not?” Helen asked, surprised. How long had this Michael kid and her son been together, and why hadn’t she known sooner? 

Tweek turned his icy glare onto his mother, clenching his teeth. “Because I didn’t want you to tell Dad!” He spat. 

“Sweetie, we’re your parents-”

“And all I am is your fucking product!” He snarled, standing up abruptly and slamming his hands down on the table. “The only reason you guys were happy that I was gay was because you could ‘support’ us and make the shop look good!” 

Helen looked taken aback by Tweek’s statement. “Honey, we really support you, and we’re happy for you-”

“Stop fucking speaking for him!” Tweek roared. “He’s not fucking here anymore, so quit fucking talking for him and about him!” 

Suddenly a large, warm hand rested itself on Tweek’s shoulders, making him jump and whip around. Craig was now standing there, concern flooding his face. “I’m here for you, Tweek.” He offered, resting his hand against Tweek’s cheek, and Tweek allowed his eyes to close as he let his head lean into Craig’s warm touch. God Craig smelled great. There was no way to describe his scent, it was just… just Craig. It was so soothing, Tweek briefly wondered if he could make a candle out of it. 

“Wanna go somewhere?” He asked, looking up into Craig’s soft, dark blue eyes. He wanted to get away from his mother and the remains of Richard Tweak. “Like to the mall or something?” 

“Sure,” Craig mumbled, reaching into his pocket and removing Stripe #8, who was nibbling on a carrot wedge. “We gotta stop by my place first so I can drop Stripe off.” He said. He glanced Tweek up and down, and a slight smirk formed on his lips. “You should probably change, though. As good as you look in my hoodie, you’ll need something warmer.” 

Tweek blushed, forgetting that he was wearing Craig’s hoodie. “Uh, yeah, that’s a good idea.” He mumbled, rubbing his hands against the hoodie. 

Craig removed his hand from Tweek’s cheek and instead used it to wrap around his shoulders, pulling him into his side as they made their way upstairs. He could feel Helen’s gaze following them, so he lifted his hand a bit and used it to flip her off. God he hated her and what she and Richard had done to their son. He wanted to get Tweek away from her toxicity permanently, but he couldn’t do that until they graduated from high school, if Tweek would allow it. But for now, the best thing he could do was take Tweek to the mall and get him away from Helen temporarily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No idea what Tweek’s actual mother’s name is, I don’t think she has one canonically. Let me know if I’m wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope this is an ok start. Sorry but updates will be slow. I want it to be perfect lol.


End file.
